“Hey, I'm here to pick you all up!”
It was one of Watoto's drivers. We were all headed to Kampala for the
day to have a volunteer's meeting and get grocery essentials.
“Are you sure it is now?” I
asked...not surprised. “I was told 9pm.”
“Oh, okay!” He walked back down to
the van and tilted back his seat for a morning nap.
Slowly, the rest of the gang was up,
making French toast, eggs and oatmeal over the gas stove - enjoying a
paced breakfast. It is a learned skill here, but everybody else does
it, so I am good with that. I never grew up in the city, but I might
as well have with the pace I am used to. Usually, I am trying to keep
up to my brother Jordan's pace at home, but here I come close to
losing the Ugandans in the city, and furthermore I don't even know
where I am going. I need to keep in check. Walking home from the
clinic, I will be doubling the the villagers, but the moment I am in
step, we begin talking and I remind myself to slow down. I am
learning; and it is enjoyable.
Once in the city, Mardi and I plopped
down in a cafe to get internet. “Cafe Pap” has incredibly tasty cappuccinos and Banana Malts – I highly recommend the locations.
Once we had ordered, we logged on and found that the wifi was once
again non-functional. Thinking she might go retrieve some cash from
the atm, Mardi surrendered her card to the machine, that did not give
it back. Sorry, you cannot get your card back without ID. More taxi
rides. More time.
Fred was helping us find Mardi's
passport ID, as they keep them in a safe at the church. There was a
volunteer meeting at 2pm, and he was moving faster than I had yet
seen.
“I just want to make sure you are
back on time from the bank, for the meeting at 2pm,” he was saying,
holding his phone. “You still have time...”
Mardi glance at her own phone,
confused.
“It is 2...”
More taxi rides. More waiting in line.
Smiles. Cashback. And 30 minutes later, were back in time for the
meeting.
Previously, I hopped over to “Orange”
- a store that sells wifi motems. They had plugged in some data to my
motem, which I soon found was not working. The data had gone onto the
wrong account (this had been my fault, as the account number I had
given was wrong). No problem, they would transfer the data.
“It will take two hours,” they had
said.
Two hours later...lines, more time,
smiles.
“It will take 24 hours.”
Smiles. I left the store with the
employees number, just in case.
Following the volunteers meeting, there
was a beautifully decorated cake for those who had served, and would
be leaving in the next month. It didn't seem right, but all too soon,
as a crowd of us gathered to slice it together. It was the end of my
first month here, but also the start of my last. No matter how we
seem to pace ourselves through life, whether rushing through a city
or meandering through a rural village, time always gets the upper-hand by being a concept that will not be fully grasped or comprehended. It
slows down. It runs away. It is one thing, which with I am never in
step.
 |
| I love cake |
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